Linking Promises
by love and petrichor
Summary: Pinky swear: the linking of pinky fingers to seal a promise. It was such a small gesture, and it was quite childlike, but it was the most important thing for two very lonesome people living in New York City. Castle/Beckett.
1. The Beginning

**Linking Promises  
><strong>Summary: Pinky swear: the linking of pinky fingers to seal a promise. It was such a small gesture, and it was quite childlike, but it was the most important thing for two very lonesome people living in New York City.  
><span>Disclaimer<span>: Me owning Castle? Hahahaha oh my god that's the greatest joke I've ever heard in my life.  
><span>AN: You can tell I really like Wednesdays huh.

* * *

><p><strong>The Beginning<strong>

It all started on a Wednesday. Wednesdays were always relaxing. They were always located right in the exact middle of the week where everyone is just going about in their lives. It wasn't a Tuesday, a day where people are still bitter about the coming of Monday and it wasn't a Thursday, a day where people start contemplating about Friday.

They were both out on the swings of the playground. Ever since that gunshot from the funeral went off, those old and rusty swings located in the heart of the city was always a place where they could talk. It occurred almost every week. Going everyday could not have been an option because of their unpredictable work schedule. Once situated on the swings, they both freely talked about anything they wanted to let out. He talked about his daughter and her "hormonic" adventures through her senior year in high school. She always gave him helpful advice, since she had nothing in her personal life to contribute to the conversations. Her whole life was her job, but if she knew there was something that irked her, she knew going to the swings would be an ideal place to talk about it.

And a Wednesday it was. It was a Wednesday and rain was pouring down into the demanding city. They both had free time and their workplace was not too far away. Sure, it rained, but they disregarded their mother's warnings about getting sick in the rain. After all, rain quite an amazing type of weather. Yet most certainly, the possibility of getting sick in the freezing cold rain was the central topic of their conversation.

"Are you sure this is the greatest idea?" she asked, glancing up into the sky and back towards him. She could see the little beads of rain gathering in his little streaks of hair. She could feel the cold rain falling onto her skin. "I'm not so sure I wanna get sick."

"We're just sitting peacefully on the swings while it rains," he responded with a hint of innocence and an enthusiastic push on the swing. "How can we get sick from that?"

"Well, it's obviously really cold-"

"Haven't you ever heard of the phrase 'I don't care'"?

"I'm a detective! And a human being, too. Of course I have to care!"

"Oh, Katherine Beckett, what to do, what to do…"

She rolled her eyes at his childlike demeanor. Of course, she's gotten used to it after working with it for almost four years, but she couldn't help it.

"Okay," he continued. At this point, they were getting a bit soaked from the rain, as shown in the slight outward curl of wet hair. "I will promise you that we won't get sick. And I'll pinky swear that if you do get sick, I will gladly receive all the blame."

"Pinky swear?" She seemed a bit exasperated by that statement. What is this crazy man going to do now? "Castle, are we in second grade or something? You can just promise me and it'll be fine."

"It'll be fine? I beg to differ, Miss Katherine Beckett. Pinky swears are the most important thing in the universe. If a person breaks a pinky swear, it is a to said person and all that he or she stands for."

"Here goes your lively writer's imagination again…"

"Come on, killjoy! First you don't wanna be in the rain and then you can't bring yourself to pinky swear?"

He pouted just to mess with her. She stared out towards her with a broad smile. She couldn't bring herself to look at him just yet. He was being a bit too adorable right this moment.

"Fine," she said and pulled out her pinky. Immediately, he linked his pinky with hers and with great pride and joy he announced:

"I pinky swear that you will not get sick. If you do, I will gladly take all the blame with it."

"You're having so much fun with this."

"You bet I am."

"At least it wasn't a 'cross my heart' swear. I might have punched you in the face."

"Oh, come on, priorities! Those 'cross my heart' promises have got nothing on pinky swears."

Suddenly, the phone rang, and the two were immediately pushed back into the busy lifestyle of work.

It seemed as though the introduced pinky swear was already pushed back into their minds so as to focus on the case they were working on. But at the end of the day, she sneezed a quite huge sneeze during the end of the day.

"Damn it, Castle, you promised," she joked.

"It was just a sneeze! It wasn't like a flurry of boogers just started to block up your nose."

"Okay, that's gross. I'm calling it a night. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Just wait."

And that is how it started, on a nice and rainy Wednesday. That pinky swear was such a small gesture, but it came to be one of their most important ones in the course of their partnership because once a pinky swear is engraved into your mind, you can never forget it.


	2. Her

**Her**

It was not common that her partner would weave himself into trouble. But he had just an equal chance of being in danger as her, so he had to watch himself. He was not as trained as her. He did not own a gun and he obviously did not know his self-defense that well (though he wished he did.)

It was supposed to be a normal night. One whole day of work cleared up some questions about the case. The team was supposed to head back home and come back the next day refreshed. They were only to come back alert when trouble occurred.

And what do you know? It did. She was getting ready to go back to her new apartment. She looked quite haggard. That "one whole day of work" turned out to be really tiresome and demanding. Her long brown hair was tied up into a loose, messy ponytail that she threw her beanie on top of. Her eyes expressed fatigue and a lack of sleep and also confusion. She hasn't heard from him since the afternoon which was quite weird since he's always following her around like a puppy dog.

Assuming that for some reason he went back home, whether it be a family affair or to write his books, she decided not to call. Taking a deep breath before entering those cold elevator doors, she was ready to use the last of her energy going back home.

Until her phone rings.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

She stopped in her tracks. At this point, she was too tired to endure both walking and talking on the phone. Somehow, she immediately knew who was calling on the other side of the line (speak of the devil. Who else would be calling her at the brink of midnight?)

"Hello?" she managed to muster. "What do you want? I really wanna go home and-"

A cough could be heard from the person calling. It wasn't just some cough that someone would cough when their throat feels ticklish. It was a kind of cough that would make you feel concerned about that cougher's health. It was a kind of cough that throws up blood.

"Castle?" she asked with growing worry. "What's going on? Hello?"

After a few more coughs, wheezing followed. She thought it might go two ways: he's obviously setting up a prank directed towards her that he'll treasure for the days to come or he's in terrible danger.

"What's going on?" asked one of her close colleagues from behind her. She proceeded to put the phone on speaker, and now the loud sound of coughing and wheezing echoed through the walls of the bullpen. They both listened as he tried to speak.

"K… K-k-k-kate," he wheezed. Something crashed in the background and that proved that this was not some sort of joke.

"Where are you?" she asked, her heart pounding within the walls of her chest. "God, please tell me where you are?"

"H-h-hhouse. B-b-b-break in. Knife. P-p-p-please come."

She had never heard him so devastated and trying to fight for his life. These past few weeks, it was usually her trying to fight for her life. He needed help. He was at his house. There was a break-in and the intruder had a knife. Obviously he's injured quite bad. She needed to help in.

"Help is on the way," she assured. "I'll be on the way. Just keep holding on. Please. Everything will be alright. _I promise."_

She followed her colleague out into the police car to drive to the apartment. Officers were already there to figure out what was going on. She frantically looked around to see if he was there. At first glance she saw him laying on a gurney. Blood stained a huge amount of the clothes he was wearing. Reporters and the concerned crowd gathered behind the tape after hearing the news that the New York Times best-selling author was stabbed with critical injuries.

His daughter and mother were standing in the lobby, obviously shaken up. They were talking to an officer and gathering information on what happened that few minutes ago.

"Hey," she greeted, looking down upon him. He was barely conscious, but he knew she was there. Both pairs of tired eyes met each other with a hopeful smile. She placed the palm of her hand on his cheek.

"Hi," he said. She has never heard him this weak before. He was always energetic and brightening up the room. This time, all that energy drained from his face.

"You'll be alright. I know you'll be, okay?"

At that moment, she linked her pinky around his, telling him two things: one, she promised that he _will_ be alright and two, she did not forget.

"I know."

"Ma'am," said the paramedic. "Will you be going with him?"

In confusion, she looked at him, and then back to the paramedic. She turned around to her colleagues, who were looking at her direction as well. They gave the initial signal to tell her that it was okay to go with him.

"Yes," she said. "I'll be going with him."

And from that moment on, she did feel a bit of his energy slowly being restored. And she never let go of that pinky nor that promise.


End file.
